


Bucky's Guide to Bondage

by uglywombat



Series: The Beginner's Guide to Kinks by Steve Rogers [2]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Chris Evans (actor) - Fandom, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Captain kink, F/M, Fluff, Kink Negotiation, Light Bondage, Light Dom/sub, Smut, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Penetration, bad language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-22
Updated: 2019-11-22
Packaged: 2021-02-26 01:34:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21525283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/uglywombat/pseuds/uglywombat
Summary: Under the wing of New York’s own (self-titled) Sex God, Bucky Barnes, Steve dips beyond the toes into the world of kinks. But first, Steve has to get beyond the front door of The Pleasure Chest.
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Reader
Series: The Beginner's Guide to Kinks by Steve Rogers [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1546885
Comments: 27
Kudos: 111





	Bucky's Guide to Bondage

**Author's Note:**

> This is part of The Beginner’s Guide to Kinks by Steve Rogers series. It’s not entirely necessary but I would recommend reading Let Your Freak Flag Fy Rogers first. 
> 
> I would LOVE to hear your thoughts and suggestions!

  
  


“So you’re dipping your toes into the kink pool and you didn’t ask your best friend and New York’s own Sex God for advice? Shame on you.”

Steve’s life flashed before his eyes as his skin transformed from pristine alabaster, the kind that women pay thousands of dollars to replicate, to beetroot red in a microsecond. A passerby might have thought he was having an allergic reaction by the way he gripped onto the railing of the balcony and fought back the bile that threatened to spill down 54 floors down onto the New York streets.

Fear seeped from his pores as he looked over to the satisfied smirk painting Bucky’s lips as he casually leaned against the railing, his long legs crossed over, wearing tight brown jeans and an open Fendi quilted vest with nothing on underneath but the skin he was born in, and some well-built muscle. Steve wanted to punch him in his perfect face. 

“Don’t worry Cap, Daddy’s here to teach you.”

  
  


**_Forty-three minutes, seventeen seconds earlier_ **

Bucky would never admit this, but Sam knew how to throw a good party. The tunes were banging, the food was delicious and Bucky knew where Sam hid the good whiskey. Behind the Nike  _ Adapt Huarache _ he refused to wear in public, and because Sam was the idiot who wouldn’t change his hiding spot Bucky could always make a boozy escape when needed. 

However, there was one thing plaguing Bucky, that was putting a big old dampener on the festivities that evening. 

Sulk face Steve sulky-face Rogers was sulking in the corner, like a big sulky oversized teddy bear, nursing a warming beer and glaring into the roaring fireplace. Sulking like a toddler, Steve had officially become a salty piece of shit who had ripped Bucky’s head off for daring to ask why he had missed Sam’s dress-up party. 

Okay, in hindsight, Bucky probably shouldn’t have called Steve Benedict Arnold for “leaving a brother in his hour of need”, but usually Steve would just laugh him off and blush about how something had come up. Also, Steve was fair game because he hadn’t even bothered to text Sam that he would not be attending, and therefore you, Bucky’s partner in crime, would also not be attending. Rude.

And the little dark cloud moping in the corner was starting to put a dampener on the party. There was a clear line drawn around him and everyone was staying on the west side of his Berlin Wall. 

It was clear to Bucky that Steve had a stick up his ass and he had to get to the bottom of its source. It evidently had nothing to do with the ugly sweater theme because, if Bucky had to be brutally honest, Steve dressed ugly 90% of the time. 

There was no way he was going to let Captain Sulkface ruin this party anymore. And there was only one way he could uncover the truth without going full Guantanamo. Sam would never forgive him if he ruined another rug with an impromptu interrogation. 

You were just fixing your lip stain when the door handle rattled to the bathroom. “I’m almost done,” you called out before returning your gaze to the mirror to double-check your lips. The rattling turned to the door shaking violently. “Jesus, wait a second! I’m almost…”

Your words were cut short as the door handle was ripped from the wood and Bucky stormed into the bathroom, slamming the door shut behind him. 

“Let yourself in, why don’t you, Bucky?” you teased before turning the tap and washing your hands with Sam’s nice hand wash, as opposed to the cheap one he had put out for guests because Sam could be a little stingy. 

“Your boyfriend is an asshole and is killing Sam’s party. Also, you look cute.”

You scoffed as you turned your back to the mirror, leaned against the vanity and dried your hands with a towel, taking in the sight of Bucky in his ugly light-up Christmas tree jumper and sinfully tight brown jeans. 

“Firstly, thank you, I love your jumper, you’re the most style Christmas tree in this place. Secondly, Steve’s just…” you sighed, unsure of what you should divulge. 

This issue was between the both of you, and really, instead of hiding it under a rug and ignoring it like you had been for the past week, you should be discussing this as two people in a committed relationship should. 

But you weren’t and you were dying to tell someone. Honestly, if anyone could help it would be Bucky Barnes, New York’s very own sex expert (according to Bucky and a few enthusiastic auditors in your office).

“Out with it Rogers’ Better Half.”

You chuckled and placed the towel neatly back onto the rack. You faced the mirror and straightened your short dark mini skirt and fixed the French tuck on your Scandi-inspired Christmas jumper. 

You had instantly liked Bucky when you had met the same day your path crossed with Steve’s at that corporate baseball game in Central Park. You and Bucky had clicked over a raucous conversation about  _ The Great British Bake Off _ whilst Steve watched on in amusement, too shy to flirt back with you. It was hard not to like Bucky. He was charming, handsome, hilarious and as sharp as a tack. 

One way or another Bucky would find out what was going on, he always did. 

“Fine, but not in here,” you said grabbing him by his warm, flesh hand and dragging him out of the bathroom. 

You made your way down the impeccably decorated hallway, pulling Bucky close behind you. The walls were a gallery of photographs of friends and family and impeccably paired with tasteful artwork. 

The ceiling above your head flickered lightly with carefully hung Christmas lights as you pushed past Wanda and Vision, who were too busy making out against the distressed velvet bench you immediately recognised from West Elm you had been waiting to snag during the post-Christmas sales, to even notice you. 

Sam’s room was a quiet oasis, the sounds of laughter, cheesy Christmas tunes and chatter muting as Bucky closed the door behind him.

“Fuck, Sam’s got great taste,” you mused taking in the room before flopping onto the perfectly made bed, the soft Ralph Lauren sheets like a cloud beneath you. “I can’t believe he’s been hiding this room from us.”

“Wait until you see the wardrobe,” Bucky said with the excitement of a kid on Christmas morning as he grasped your hand and pulled you into the walk in wardrobe.

He hadn’t been kidding. Sam had an honest to God shoe display of Nikes. There had to have been at least a hundred of them. Everything was meticulously hung up or folded neatly, colour co-ordinated.

“Mother fucker has a better closest than me,” you sulked as you spied through the designer selection of bomber jackets. “He never wears this stuff. What kind of a hoarder doesn’t wear threads like this in public?” Your eyes caught onto the Alexander McQueen floral skull embroidered bomber jacket. “Do you think he’d mind if I borrowed this and never returned it?”

Bucky laughed as he stripped his flashing light jumper, baring his ripped chest and pulled on a Fendi down quilted vest, leaving it unzipped. Only Bucky could pull it off. 

Taking his cue, you stripped off your jumper, revealing your silk chemise before pulling on the lightweight jacket as you watched him reach up behind a Nike box and pull out a bottle of Johnnie Walker  _ Blue Label _ . 

The jacket fits like a dream and you were extremely bitter about having to give it back. Unless of course, you could convince Steve to steal it for you on your way out of the party but that was very unlikely.

“Does Sam have a secret career in money laundering or something?” you joked sitting down on a floor cushion, your back resting against a cabinet of watches, Bucky sitting beside you and opening up the bottle. “I mean, who has floor cushions in their wardrobe? Do you think he sits in here and just spends his evenings gazing over his collection?”

“Let hope that’s the only thing he does,” Bucky teased as he passed you over the bottle. “Now spill.”

“Only if you swear on all things Sam Wilson’s closet that you will not tell a soul.” Bucky raised an eyebrow and placed a chaste kiss on a pair of Gucci suede loafers. 

Close enough to a promise, even though Sam would have a coronary when he found out Bucky had been kissing his shoes. You took a fortifying sip of the bottle, and then another, before letting out a shaky breath, apologising to Steve in your head. “Steve found my browsing history on the laptop one night and has been trying to spice up our sex life.”

Bucky spluttered and coughed on the mouthful of scotch, his throat burning before exploding into a fit of giggles. You felt your cheeks warm with embarrassment for Steve as you watched Bucky giggle like a child because Steve was trying. Because, your darling, sweet boyfriend was a trier. He’d try anything for you, even if it made him very, very uncomfortable. And he’d succeeded with the scrubs but then the kink-shame had kicked in and it had practically been the Cold War in your bed ever since. 

“I’m sorry,” Bucky gasped as he tried to calm himself. “But did you just say Captain Vanilla Cupcake has been trying to explore kinks?” You shrugged your shoulders as you snatched back the bottle and took a larger than necessary swig. “And how is that working out?”

You knew you had to tell Bucky the entire story, mostly to save Steve the embarrassment of trying to tell the story himself. You were doing him a favour, because you loved him, and you knew that if anyone could talk some sense into him it would be Bucky. Once he’d calmed down and stopped chortling like a baboon.

“So at first he tried a little dirty talking which was good, I mean he’d clearly seen a movie or two.” You paused as Bucky snorted mid-laugh, his hands clasping at his chest. “There was a lot of “ _ oh baby, that’s the spot”  _ and  _ “you make me so hard”,  _ but it was so forced. We’ve used the blindfold a few times, but he’s really hesitant about me not being about to consent to everything.”

Bucky stilled, his little giggle fit ended as he re-assessed your trepidation. He watched on as you took another generous sip of the scotch before passing him the bottle. 

“So the night of Sam’s party he’d borrowed some scrubs from the Tower. He looked so hot Bucky, like McSteamy hot. I guess my reaction to him was a little unsubtle because all of a sudden we are barrelling down the doctor kink road and we could not get off. Except we got off, multiple times.”

Bucky’s eyes lit up like a Christmas tree. “I’m sorry, did you two play doctor and patient?” You nodded, trying to suppress the grin that threatened to grow because you were proud of that night. Steve had come alive. “How did Steve feel about this?”

“Well,” you said, turning to face him, “he really enjoyed it, until the next morning when I think he suddenly realised what he had done and then all of a sudden he has kinkers-shame or something. He could barely look me in the eyes Bucky.”

Bucky sighed and ran a hand over yours sympathetically. “Steve loves you…”

“I know. I just don’t want him to be ashamed of what we did.”

Bucky took a liberal chug of the scotch whilst mulling over the situation. You see, Bucky was a sex expert. He had a little black book of reviews to back up his claim, thank you very much. With careful, tailored, babied steps, he knew he could turn Steve into a kink master, but it would take work. 

“I can help,” he said clapping his hands over his thick thighs, “but I need you to trust me. Do you trust me?”

Before you could answer, because Bucky clearly already knew the answer, he stood up and sauntered out of the walk-in wardrobe, still proudly wearing the vest and the whiskey bottle in hand. 

The hallway was clear as you exited the bedroom, the McQueen jacket sadly returned to its hanger, and made your way back into the kitchen to see Bucky strutting towards the balcony where you could see Steve looking over the city. 

“Hey, is that my vest?” Sam huffed as Bucky closed the glass door and somehow locked it from the outside. “Were you guys in my closet?”

Natasha pulled you away from an exasperated Sam as he went on the warpath towards his bedroom. As you were dragged over to the fireplace you could just spy the familiar tinge of red in Steve’s face and the fear in his eyes. Oh boy.

  
  


*********************

**Three Days Later**

Bundled up in the back of the discrete town car, Sam’s heart sang as they drew near  _ Magnolia Bakery _ . Yes! He’d been craving a  _ Black Bottom Pecan Pie _ all week. His mouth salivated until it dropped as they drove straight past. 

In a panicked moment of desperation, he sought out Steve’s eyes for clarification or support but was met with the sight of his Captain staring forlornly out of the window. The oversized golden retriever’s hands twisted anxiously in his lap as his leg bounced up and down. 

Sam prayed to every deity under the sun as his imagination ran wild at the prospects of where Steve was dragging him too. 

Yesterday hadn’t been the first time that Steve appeared at Sam’s office with the angst-ridden, panicked look on his face as he begged for his help. And because Sam was a great friend (and Steve’s best friend unlike Bucky) he was more than happy to lend a helping and supportive hand. 

But as the town car pulled up in front of a hideous brick building with rainbow colours shapes on the window Sam was beginning to question his loyalty.

“Oh sweet Jesus Lord, help us.”

Steve offered him an apologetic,  _ I will be forever in your debt _ glance before exiting the car, pulling his coat around him tightly. 

Sam took a soul-cleansing breath and began apologising to his mother and grandmother as he exited the car to see a triumphant, grinning, evil Bucky Barnes leaning against the wall,  _ Pleasure Chest _ basically strobing in neon lights before him. 

“Why in all that is holy on this earth did you drag us here?”

“Welcome to “How Steve Rogers Got His Sex-Groove Back”,” Bucky paused, thinking before correcting himself, “or actually got one.” 

Sam groaned and looked up to the sky to aim himself at any possible falling objects. Steve burnt with embarrassment and caved in on himself. 

“You and I, but mostly me, are going to help Steve find his inner-kink,” Bucky announced with a new knowing smirk that set Sam on edge. 

Sam balked and gasped like a virginal nun walking into a sex shop. “Oh hell no. This is not what I meant when I told you to let her freak flag fly. You were supposed to keep it between you two, not involve us.” He huffed and he puffed as he paced around the sidewalk, narrowly missing bypassing commuters. “I’m out. Tapping out. The white flag is raised and flapping in the hurricane. I’m sorry Steve but you’re on your own.”

Steve will never be proud of this moment and it would haunt him for a long, long time, however, he was a desperate man and this called for desperate measures. 

Steve dropped to his knees on the filthy ground on 7th Avenue, in the heart of West Village, and begged as he had never begged before. He offered up his firstborn child, he offered to do all of Sam’s laundry for the remainder of his days, he even offered to supply him with endless pies. And good pies. The kind of pies you would drag yourself through Manhattan for in the middle of the lunchtime rush.

Sam could not say no. Captain America was on his knees in the middle of the day, on a busy street in New York City, making a total and utter ass of himself and Sam. People were staring. People were starting to reach for their phones. 

He was also sure he suffered a broken rib as Steve pulled him into a literal bone crushing-hug. 

Bucky just rolled his eyes because the two men he called friends, and he was beginning to doubt why and how they were his friends, were absolutely insane. They hadn’t even stepped inside the shop yet. 

But, he was on a mission and he wasn’t about to let his best friends down. Those friends being you and Steve, not Sam because Sam was clearly having an issue with this whole situation. 

Pulling the bandaid off the wound, Steve held onto Sam’s arm tightly as they reluctantly followed Bucky into the sex shop. Bucky, of course, sauntered in like he owned the place immediately greeting the beautiful, voluptuous woman behind the counter like she was his best friend. 

“Mr. Barnes, to what do we owe the pleasure of your company today?” 

Steve wanted to die as he took in the sight of penises of all shapes, sizes, and colours surrounding him like an army of Chitauri. There were long sticks that looked like penises but were clearly not penises. Ropes. Weird leather masks with holes for the mouth but not for the eyes. Riding crops. Paddles. 

It was all too overwhelming and if Steve had not been jacked up on super-soldier serum he would have fainted. In fact, Steve would have given anything to faint right now so he could get out of here.

“Steve,” he heard Bucky’s voice in the distance as his head whipped around the colourful onslaught of sex toys before coming rest on the steely, homely grey eyes. Steve instantly felt the wash of warm, calming energy as Bucky held his gaze, “breathe. I’m not going to push you into anything I don’t think you’re comfortable with, okay?” Steve nodded, the glint of fear returning to his eyes. “I need you to reaffirm your stance in this very big step you’re about to take in your relationship.”

Steve held onto the counter and took a deep, mind-clearing breath. He thought back to their conversation on the freezing balcony at Sam’s party. He could do this. He loved you and he knew that this is what your relationship needed. He needed to add some spice to his vanilla cupcake mix.

“My name is Steve Rogers and I need to spice up my sex life.”

“That’s my boy,” Bucky said wrapping a reassuring arm around his best friend’s body and starting to move him towards the back of the store. “We’re going to start off light and easy. Okay? Let me teach you about the magic of bondage.”

*****************************

Tonight was the night. It had been three weeks since Steve had been dragged through the pits of hell, aka The Pleasure Chest and Sam had still not forgiven him for dragging him into this decrepit hell hole. 

Steve fussed over the bedspread before moving around the room and fretting over the candles. He was nervous. Three long weeks of allowing Bucky to play Mr. Miyagi to his Daniel LaRusso. He’d had his moments, including a brief lockdown in the bathroom before Bucky had torn down the door and dragged him out by his ear. 

But, Steve had come a long way since the first time he’d tried out the cuffs on Sam. They had obviously not moved past just putting the cuffs on Sam because the famed Falcon has freaked out and knocked himself unconscious trying to escape the cuffs. And he hadn’t been entirely surprised when he’d received an invoice from Sam’s therapist.

All his hard work would pay off tonight though. Hopefully. Steve wasn’t quite 100% confident in his ability to come through tonight, but he was going to try his darnedest because Steven Grant Rogers was not a quitter.

Although, as he heard the front door of the townhouse open and close he could have quit right there and then. Steve panicked and began to grab at the  _ Agent Provocateur _ on the bed but froze as you stepped into the bedroom. 

“Steve?” 

His heart melted as he watched you take in the sight around you. The bedroom was filled with lit, lightly scented candles, a wall of fairy lights fixed to the wall above the bed. Your face lit up as you took in the delicate sight before you, Steve holding a big, black  _ Agent Provocateur  _ in his arms, in front of him lay a black silk blindfold and over the headboard hung four leather cuffs. 

“Hey,” he said shyly as you moved further into the room and stopped in front of him, your hands caressing the soft cable-knit jumper and subtly checking out his bubble butt in the unusually tight-fitting jeans. This was new. 

“Is this for me?” Your heart was so full it could burst. 

“Of course,” he said finding some courage and passing you the box. “I’ve drawn you a bath. When you’re done I want you to put this on. Do you understand?”

_ Well shit _ . Your bone achingly tired body suddenly came to life as his lips met yours gently, sparks flowing through your veins as you hungrily kissed him back. 

“Yes, Steve.”

Steve tutted, a small smirk painting his lips as his hand descending to your neck and gently grasped you. “Not tonight, sweetheart. Tonight I’m the Captain.”

_ Well, double shit. _ You didn’t need further encouragement or instruction. “Yes, Captain.”

Steve took great delight in helping you remove your clothes slowly, his lips tasting your skin as his fingers caressed you delicately and teasingly. He took his time unhurriedly pulling off the cable-knit jumper and peeling off the jeans to reveal a pair of tight-fitting navy boxers. If he kept this up you wouldn’t make it to the bath before you were jumping his bones, but tonight was about Steve taking control. You had to be patient and let him do this in his own time. You could not scare him off.

The water was warm and calming, your muscles finally letting go of the stress and anxiety from a long and arduous day in the office. You needed this.

Steve sat on the ledge of the bath slowly drawing the soft sponge over your body, cleansing you of the long day. He took his time, trying to dampen down the raging impatience and anxiety fueling his body like a jet engine. He wanted this to be so good for you. He did not want the three weeks of hard work to be for nothing, lest Sam  _ never _ forgive him.

He dried you carefully with a warm, soft towel before massaging your loosening muscles with the soft, citrus body lotion you loved to use, your mind shut away the stress of the day in an invisible small box and you could finally focus on something far more important. 

Your Steve Rogers was finally going to get his kink on.

Your eyes drooped as you slipped further and further into the luscious warm fluffy headspace, teetering on the edge of dozing.

“Don’t fall asleep on me now, sweetheart,” his husky voice drawled as he caged your body against the vanity, his hard cock pressing against the swell of your ass. “I have so much I’d like to do to you tonight.”

You giggled lightly as his fingers lightly trailed over your ribs, tickling you slightly before catching your lips with his. The kiss was heady and full of promise as he slowly drew your head back towards him, but your body still pinned against the vanity. 

You were pliant and your head pleasantly floating as he led you out of the bathroom and back into the bedroom before pulling you into a vehement kiss. You could feel his control waver as you were malleable in his arms. 

Steve abruptly drew himself back from you, his heated gaze drawing down your body as he forced himself to regain control. No, Bucky had said it was important to re-centre and take a moment to take back control. His chest heaved as his eyes held yours and he picked up the box on the bed before handing it to you. 

“Put it on.”

“Yes, Captain.” Your hands shook with bubbling excitement and anticipation as you carefully pulled the bow from the box and set it on the bed. A shaky mewl dripped from your mouth as you surveyed the black corset before you. “This is so beautiful.”

“ _ You _ are so beautiful,” Steve said, suddenly pressing his hot body against your back as he peered over your shoulder. 

Steve was frugal at best, his heart still battling over his upbringing during the depression and the world of opulence he now called home. His presents were never over that top like the ones Tony would splash on every man and his wife.

This corset was everything you had drooled and lusted over from afar. French Leavers lace was perfectly lined with steel boning. It was luxurious, it was expensive, it was beautiful and now, it was yours.

Thick dexterous hands helped you into the intricate, structured corset, carefully fastening each clasp cascading between your breasts and down your body. 

“You are absolutely beautiful, sweetheart.” Your skin tingled with excitement as his fingers trailed over your sensitive skin. “Do you consent to me tying you up tonight?” 

“Yes, Captain.”

Steve heaved a sigh of relief before helping you onto the bed, instructing you to kneel, facing the bed head. “I’m going to take such good care of you, sweetheart,” he whispered into your ear as he caged you against the fabric headboard and taking each other your wrists in his hands. He spread your arms across the top of the headboard as his lips brushed against your shoulders. “Do you trust me?”

“Of course, Captain.” Your voice quivered with anticipation, your skin pebbling as his lips trailed over your skin and slowly descended down your spine to the top of the corset. Your body was alight and your head fuzzy.

“I’m going to cuff you to this bed so that I can ensure that you are on your best behaviour.” His voice was rich and dark as his hands coaxed your legs further apart. 

The cool air brushed against your damp pussy lips as hot hands trailed over your thighs and up your ass cheeks.

“Do you trust me?” he begged, the finality of his question lingering on the air as he held the leather cuff by your wrist. 

“With my life. I love you.”

“I love you,” he said pressing his lips to yours. 

Steve could feel the blood rush through his veins, he could sense the breath draw in and out of his lungs as he gently and methodically slipped the black leather cuffs onto your wrists and ankles, taking time to tenderly kiss the surrounding skin. He pressed lazy, soft kisses to your cheek as he slipped the soft, sweet smelling-silk blindfold over your eyes. 

**_Take your time. Enjoy the moment. Be in control._ **

Steve clasped his hand around your neck as he drew you into a heated kiss, indulging in the taste of the breath mints you had clearly been chewing on after your work dinner. His other hand gradually moved over the curve of the corset before descending over the swell of your arse and settling between your legs. 

A breathy, heady mewl echoed through the room as Steve’s fingers languidly explored your pussy, his lips briefly spreading into a smile before deepening the kiss. 

He kissed you like a starved man, his hand firmly gripping your neck as his fingers slowly entered your channel, your walls simultaneously stretching and clenching around him. 

“Does that feel nice, sweetheart?” Steve cooed as his lips danced along your neck and shoulders, your eyes fluttering as you felt his fingers drag along your walls. “I think it does because you are absolutely drenched. This is all for me, isn’t that right?”

In the thick, blanketing mist filling your head you could only bring yourself to nod, your body aching to feel more. You needed more. 

The wanton, desperate cry that fell from your lips as he withdrew his fingers was quickly silenced as he placed those fingers into your mouth. You could taste the musky essence as he encouraged you to suck his fingers. 

“You’re desperate for it, aren’t you?” 

His bravado and confidence were quickly replaced with concern when you failed to respond. “Baby, are you okay? I can stop.” His hands impatiently and desperately gripped at you, trying to bring your attention to him though you could not see him.

You vehemently shook your head and pressed your ass back against his crotch. “You’re doing so well, I promise. Please, fuck me, Captain. I need you to fuck me now.”

The relief that swept through Steve was nothing short of a miracle. He had truly believed he had blown it and three weeks of work was a complete waste. Sam would really never forgive him then. 

Steve all but bounced off of the bed, tripping over his big feet as he yanked off his boxers as a rush of adrenaline hit him like a bullet train. 

This was happening. Steve Rogers was finally going to get his kink-mojo.

**_Take your time. Enjoy the moment. Be in control._ **

Bucky’s calm words washed over him like Yoda to Luke Skywalker on Dagobah and Steve took a moment to regain some modicum of control and dignity, before coming back onto the bed and kneeling behind you. 

“How badly do you need my cock?” Steve smirked, watching your hands clench as he slowly ran his cock over your pussy lips. “Use your words, sweetheart. Tell your Captain how much you need him to fuck you?”

“Please, Captain,” you begged wantonly, desperation superseding your need to remain cool, calm and collected, “so, so bad. I can’t wait. Please, please put your big cock in me.”

Steve, being the red-blooded male that he was, felt his chest puff with pride as you extended your back, presenting your ass to him. Yes, he could get used to this. 

Carefully taking his cock in his hand, Steve lined the tip with your entrance before languidly entering you. He relished in the warmth of your channel, your walls gradually wrapping his length tightly until he stopped.

“Oh sweetheart,” he purred, taking a moment to relish in the feeling of his cock nestled warmly against your gently pulsating walls. “Is that what you needed from your Captain? To be stuffed with my cock?”

Ordinarily, the notion of Steve using the word cock would have you in a fit of giggles, however, the power and control radiating off of his hot body coupled with the hold on your neck were enough to pull you in line.

“Yes Captain,” you breathed as he gently pushed further, your walls pulling against him as his hand came to squeeze your thigh as the other thumbed your neck.

“Such a sweet, acquiescent girl you are for your Captain when you’re all tied up with nowhere to go.” An addled sob echoed through the room as Steve drew his hips back and let his top just rest between your folds. “Perhaps I should keep you like this all the time. Then I can have my fill of you whenever I please.”

With one swift movement, Steve was buried again inside of you, a startled gasp escaping as you cling onto the bed head. 

“That’s it, sweetheart, take all of me.” 

Oh god, that raspy, deeper than the Krubera Cave voice held a direct channel to your core. It spoke to you in ways you had never been spoken to, pulling you further and further into the soft clouds of the fluffy space. 

Steve was methodical as he held onto you, fucking you slowly, ensuring that you could feel every nerve flutter as his cock dragged along your walls. His lips glazed your shoulders and neck, his tongue languidly trailing along your pulse point and ear.

The hand on your throat slowly ascended to your chin before angling your face to the ceiling. “You were made for me, weren’t you, sweetheart?” 

“Yes, Captain.” It was barely a whimper, your senses overwhelmed by the enveloping darkness and firm hands holding you in place as his thrusts increased in pace and veracity. 

“Would you like to come on your Captain’s cock?”

“Oh fuck, please, please,” you begged, your hands shifting between gripping the bed head and the restraints. “Please let me come, Captain.”

And you did. Your body quaked as you came, your walls clamping down onto his cock as he fucked you through your orgasm, his lips quelling your cries. 

Watching you come undone and the feeling of your pussy clenching him was too much. Steve came with a roar, his grip vice-like as his hips slowed.

He was quick to undo the restraints and pull off the blindfold before carefully pulling you down onto the bed and holding you close. His soft words and tender caresses slowly pulled through the pillowy cloud of space in your head.

Your vision gradually cleared and you became aware of your surroundings once more. 

“That was incredible,” you said weakly, your smile tired as Steve held you close. The warmth radiating from his hot, muscular was so comforting. “You were amazing.”

And Steve has been and so much more. You could kiss Bucky, or at least help him nab that Fendi puffer jacket he’d been talking about since Sam’s party.

Steve sighed happily, his heart warm and full. “Well, you can thank Bucky for that, he’s been teaching me his ways the last few weeks, although, I’m pretty sure he will have already told you. Sam, on the other hand might, not be so grateful, as he’s still not talking to me.” You chuckled as your fingers slowly danced over his skin. “Thank you for trusting in me. I want to try this again.”

“Me too,” you said before drawing him into a heated kiss. “But Steve, I only want to try what you’re comfortable with. Don’t just do this for me, this has to be for us.”

Steve smiled dopely as his lips sought comfort in yours. “Of course. I have a horrible feeling Bucky is going to keep inserting himself into our sex life though.”

Your laugh was hearty. “Of that I have no doubt. But then, you can’t pass up the opportunity to learn from the best right?” 

*********************

The tower gym was crowded the next morning as Steve concentrated on breathing in and out as he neared the twenty-mile mark on the treadmill. 

The dopey smile on his face was hard to break as he thought back over last night. He hadn’t felt so young and spritely in, well, he had never felt this young and spritely. 

A commotion at the entrance of the gym drew his attention from the mission report on the monitor he had been partly paying attention too before his thoughts had ventured back to you in that corset and if he should go and buy something else.

Steve watched as Sam stormed into the gym in a huff and stomped onto the vacant treadmill beside him. 

Like a good friend, Steve was about to ask what was bothering Sam but then the vision of Bucky strutting onto the gym like a supermodel, dressed in Sam’s Fendi puffer jacket was a good indication to stay clear of that subject. 

Bucky stood before him with a triumphant grin. Steve then noticed the discreet black bag in Bucky’s hand.

“I hear congratulations are in order, Mr. Rogers.” 

Steve gulped at the sight of the bag. How Bucky knew the success of last night was beyond him, you were stuck in meetings all day. In fact, he didn’t want to know how the soldier knew. 

“We can’t rest on our laurels, Stevie boy. How do you feel about anal play?”

  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> I really hope you enjoyed the second installment of this! I'd love to hear your thoughts ♥️
> 
> You can also check me out on Tumblr! I love a good chat - come be my friend!
> 
> https://imanuglywombat.tumblr.com


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